#which is ridiculous !! if you liked it enough to say 'i'll stick to it' why are you spinning around and going the other way?? silly-silly!!

[keeps-ache]

MUSIC. [explodes]

[nonotnolan]

Jock Cock, Part 2

Check out Part 1 here.

"Excuse me, Professor Jones?" I wasn't expecting to be recognized out in public, but I did live in town, and it wasn't unheard of for a few of my more friendly students to engage in small talk if they happened to see me out grocery shopping or what have you. I'm usually too introverted to develop deep bonds with students, especially over a trivial intro course, but some people just want to be social.

"Please, just Mr. Jones. Or Kevin. I'm a teaching assistant, not a… Jared?" I certainly wasn't expecting a member of the basketball team greeting me out in public. "Do I… I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting to be recognized. I don't think you've ever been enrolled in one of my classes?"

He smiled at me, letting his bags drop to the ground. "Well, we've crossed paths before, I just didn't make much of an impression on you. I don't take it personally, I was a pretty non-descript guy." The thought of Jared ever blending into a crowd was… ridiculous, to say the least. My skepticism must have shown up on my face, because he started laughing at me. "The real me, not Jared. I'm the same guy who swapped with Adam last month."

I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks as I recalled that night. He dumped three different loads in my ass once he was no longer my student. It was one of the most risky hookups I have ever had, but that made it all the more exciting. Especially since the man inside of Adam's body clearly had experience. Most guys with a fuck stick over seven inches were terrible in bed, but he was diligent about both foreplay and aftercare. Snuggling against a tight chest of rippling muscles, breathing deeply the manly aroma of his musky pits, gazing deeply into his eyes as his fingers ran through my hair… I didn't even realize I was daydreaming until I felt the strain of my cock against my boxer briefs.

"You wanna do it again?" he said, whispering softly. "Jared hired me to take care of Summer School exams for him. I've still got two more days inside of this body, and I'd love to see you again. That razor sharp mind of yours is just… the fucking sexiest thing about you, Kev. I want to be near you, I want to pull you in close and hold you tight." The stranger's hand slid down to his crotch and cupped his junk. "And I want to rail you with this jock cock until you scream."

I started to fidget with my suit jacket. "Jared... Adam... whoever it is that you are... look, it was risky enough when you were in the body of someone who graduated. Jared is... what, a junior? He's barely 21. And he's still a student"

"But he's not your student," countered the stranger. "I looked up the university policy. It only matters if there is a conflict of interest, like student and teacher. And age means nothing as long as the body is legal, which it is. Besides, you're... what, mid 30s? A bit older? That's nothing for hookup culture."

As always, the man had a point. Was he always this confident, or was that a side effect of wearing a jock's skin? "I mean, you're right, I just... I'm not a big fan of hookup culture. I know we had that night when you were Adam, but... I'd much rather go on a date and get to know you first. And I can't help but feel guilty that these athletes don't know you're having sex in their bodies, so that plus the hookup guilt is... it's a bit much for me. I really should say no. It's not personal."

Jared, the man inside of Jared, just smiled at me. "I don't know what sort of operation you think I'm running, but I make them all sign contracts that outline everything I'm allowed to do while I'm inside in their body, sex included. So if you don't want a hookup, I guess I'll just have to hang out a bit before we fuck. Why don't you come back to my place? We can hang out at the pool before we head upstairs."

"Pretty nice apartment complex, right? Jared's parents are loaded." He smiled at me as I glanced around the property. I knew the buildings in this part of town were incredibly expensive, but I didn't realize just how extravagant they were.

My eyes were drawn to the water droplets running down his muscular pecs. "Well, honestly, I assumed it was due to his status as a star athlete," I said, trying to keep my eyes focused on his face.

He shook his head. "Nah, they barely get paid anything, and the regulations around it are pretty bullshit. The scholarships cover the classes, but anything else is a crapshoot. Most of the athletes I hop into, I have them pay me by giving me extra time in their body. I don't think I could ever develop all this," he gestured at his chest for emphasis, "on my own. Being a jock is a lot of hard work and dedication, but borrowing it? Much easier. I love being able to borrow bodies like this, and doing their schoolwork is a breeze. It's a pretty sweet gig for someone like me."

"It sounds like you're being a bit hard on yourself, Mr...?"

The man in Jared's body shrugged. "Call me Mike, if you want. Or you can call me Fuck. That's what you'll be screaming later, when I'm balls deep in that ass of yours." It was one of the dumbest lines I'd heard, but the delivery was aided by the absolute stud who said it. "Come on, let's head upstairs. If you want a date, we can have coffee between rounds."

"You are going to be the death of me," I said, panting for breath. I could feel the sweat dripping down my thighs-- among other fluids, given that I'd already taken two loads from Mike's current body. I was falling for him, hard. "Okay, I have to be awkward. You clearly have a crush on me if you're trying to find me when you're in these hot bodies. But if you're not going to let me return the favor… where do you see this going?"

He just started laughing. "Why does it have to go anywhere? We're just two gay guys enjoying a series of casual hookups. It happens all the time."

I rolled off of the mattress and walked over to where I had tossed off most of my clothes. "Because I want it to go somewhere, Jar-- Mike. I don't want to have a series of casual hookups. I know a lot of guys are fine with that sort of culture, but… I'm not. I need more than this."

"Whoa, hey…" He came up behind me and pulled me close, and I could feel the warmth of his body. "Kevin. My guy. You don't even know what I look like. Are you in love with me, the idea of me, or the jock cock that I can provide to you?" He started grinding his growing erection against my bare ass for emphasis-- God, of course Jared's body was already prepared for round three. "I promise you, a relationship will never live up to your dreams. Don't ruin a good thing by trying to get even more. Just sit back and enjoy the dick, for as long as I can supply it."

I brushed his arm off my shoulder and stepped further away. "I can't… Mike, I'm not going to settle for 'good enough' in matters of love. And if that means ruining a good thing to chase what I want… what I need? That's what I'm going to do." I kept waiting for him to say something as I started getting dressed, but he just stared at me with his arms crossed.

He followed me out of the apartment, though he remained silent as he walked behind me. I guess he thought I would realize that his dick was too good to leave, and he had been right all along? I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. We were both too stubborn to admit defeat.

"I'll… see you around in some other college stud, I guess."

Check out Part 3 here.

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (5)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, three, four

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: light flirting, light metion of sex, a lot of feelings, super fluff (in their particular way)

A/N: I'M BACK WITH THE NEW AND LAST (????) CHAPTER OF THE SERIES AFTER AN HIATUS WEEK. I wanted to post something good, something beautiful, true to the characters and the story you all enjoyed reading as much as i writing! (sorry for the possible grammatical mistakes!)

Side note: this chapter is to be read with different time frames, so changing the lights of the room and their resting positions in bed!

"Say it."

"Nope."

"Why not!?" he whines, his beautiful dove eyes pleading. "C'mon baby. Say it. I deserve it. All the awards. All the honors." The fact he’s beneath her, trapped between her body and the mattress, doesn't help make him look less submissive. She has to admit, it’s extremely pleasant to see how his dignified ass drags himself for her.

"But it would be a lie," she says, sticking out her tongue in a gesture intended to make him suffer a little more. Unbelievable that this is the same man who forced her to beg for sex a couple of hours ago. "and I’m no liar."

''Didn't seem like a lie to me when you were moaning my name and cumming on my cock for the third time some minutes ago.'' Ah, there it is, his ego is back again. Or at least, a glimpse of it. Took a while to appear. 

In front of him, (Y/N) just smiles devilishly, which makes Buggy growl and look at her with pleading eyes again. "Look, we already established I know and even like how you need to play difficult, it's part of your charisma, but I need to hear it, okay? I will give you anything your wayward, fussy heart could desire. Consider it a prize."

''Anything?''

''Anything.''

Hmm. She plays along, and pretends to think about it for long, torturous seconds, shaking her head from side to side in slowmo, taking a deep breath. 

As expected, soon enough she decides to give in-- she’s satisfied after making him beg in her own particular way.

''Fine.'' She takes a breath and starts her dramatic performance, with one hand on her own chest, eyes closed. ''Oh, Buggy, you were right, you are the best lover I’ve ever had, thanks to you my soul has ascended and I have seen the One Piece.''

That is not the praise he was expecting about his sexual skills. Not even close. But was so /him/, so dramatic, exaggerated, and incredibly hilarious, that despite faking offense on his face, eyes half-closed, lips pressed together, fingers pinching her hips as punishment, he has to admit -he will not-, was funny.

''You're a moron'' That’s about everything he has to say on the matter.

‘’Like Ol’Axe-Hand?’’ She asks, raising an eyebrow, hoping he gets it. And of course he does. He's so surprised that he widens his eyes, smirking. Is she actually admitting how incredibly funny he is? ''You still remember that joke?''

''Was so bad it stuck with me since then like a fucking nightmare.'' Hit and sunk.

''Ouch''

"Don't worry, there's still time to improve the quality of your jokes. But for now I'll take the prize you promised.''

''Ugh, fine. What do you want?’' Buggy thinks he knows (Y/N), so he’s convinced she will ask for something impossible. A challenge that will ridicule him or an astronomical sum of money. ''If what you want are berries I’m sorry to inform you, sunshine, I'm broke, I still have to find...'' but the clown shuts himself when he feels the girl's fingers slowly caressing his sharp jaw, finally pulling him by his chin towards her. He leans in too, eyes fixed on her lips, yearning for the kiss he can see so clearly written in the dreamy way she looks at him.

There’s no need to announce it, nor to start it with their usual flirting or provocations. It's slow and doesn't demand anything at all, nor is intended to be the trigger of their next round.

It's just a kiss. Something so simple and intrinsically complex at the same time. And in the same way as if it had been the most fiery and passionate of his life, as not long ago, this kiss leaves him breathless, unable to form a single coherent thought that has nothing to do with her.

Oh, he’s down bad. Just like she is.

              …

And there they are on the mattress, she’s sitting on his lap, legs around him, his hands on her hips, hers on his abdomen in a relaxed pose. The scene is typical of two lovers who have known each other for a lifetime -or at least for years- and not of two people who just had the wildest sex of their lives less than a couple hours ago. For the first time. 

They tell each other anecdotes, surreal stories, and laugh together inside that little bubble they don't even know how it was created, where it came from, or how the hell it could have absorbed them so much, making them completely ignore the outside world.

"What do you mean a giant bird!?" she screams in laughter, her stomach hurting, her lungs burning. "Aha, yeah, laugh all you want but imagine thinking that you’re about to die turned into damn bird feed. It would fucking piss me off."

As it can’t be otherwise, (Y/N) ends up laughing until she cries with the story of how Buggy arrived at Loguetown, and the clown finds himself exaggerating his story more and more with each laugh he manages to get from the girl, eager to hear it again, knowing he’s the only cause of this beautiful melody.

It’s absurd how he would love -kill- to know more about her, ‘cause if he stops to think about it, he doesn't know this woman at all. He knows nothing beyond her name, her crew, and the fact that she has a bold sense of humor. She’s brave and sarcastic, keen, sharp, and much more intelligent and savvy than -in his opinion- all the idiots around her.

And this is how and when he realizes the post-nut clarity theory hasn't worked for him. Getting her out of his twisted mind will not be as easy as fucking her a couple times, get his needed ton of personal satisfaction from making her beg for him, and moving on to the next thing to do/achieve on his list.

Goddamnhim.

"Alright, as much as I love and enjoy being the main character, it's time for you to drop your femme fatale facade and show me who you truly are."

"Awh,’’ she smiles tenderly, reaching for one of his cheeks. ‘’you see me like a femme fatale? That's so cute."

"Cut the crap.’’ The clown slaps her hand away, not in a violent way, but offended. ‘’You're not easily intimidated and I noticed you're good with knives too. That's sexy, and it makes me curious as hell about what you did before you joined those shitty heads."

Fair enough, she would be curious too, so she thinks about it, a bit wary of talking about her private life because there is a part of her that prefers to keep it intact -in case she wants to come back to it-. However, she reasons, mentioning what she did without being very specific doesn’t reveal anything at all. It would piss her off if Buggy casually knows her mercenary name -by which she’s fairly known among marines and pirates alike- and connects some dots all of a sudden. 

Is he actually that smart?

"I was a mercenary." She says calmly, shrugging her shoulders. "With that angelic face?" He retorts in disbelief, raising both eyebrows, even though he knows it fits her personality just right. "You'd be surprised what you're capable of with it."

"No, no, I actually believe you." He cracks an amused smile, looking directly into her eyes after carefully scanning her face. ''I mean, If someone like you tried to sneak onto my ship I would know it’s a trap, either to kill me or to steal from me but I would end up saying ''whatever you say beautiful'' and would actually let you do your thing.''

He's an idiot but still, once again, he manages to make her laugh. “Looking like that, anyone would give you anything,” he adds because he is, in fact and undoubtedly, willing to give her a little more of himself. More time and more attention, because he should definitely be out there gathering his crew -only God knows what they'll be doing- and figuring out how to get to the Grand Line without a damn map.

The idea of asking her, or even suggesting she steals it for him, doesn't even cross his mind. Not even after having shared this /intimate/ afternoon together. He knows she won't do it, she doesn’t own him shit, she’s not one of these women who fall in love and suddenly do everything, and leave everything behind, for the man of their dreams.

And of course Buggy can see the way she looks at him, without an ounce of contempt or distaste for his extravagant appearance or the atrocities he's sure she knows he's committed and of which he's not one bit ashamed. She sees him as he is and still, she’s here, offering him back something as valuable as her time and company.

But she won't give him more, he is aware of that. That's why he didn't offer (Y/N) to run away with him when he escaped from Arlong Park, because as much as she enjoys his company and maybe, just maybe, the clown imagines, feels something for him, he has the impression she’s a disgustingly loyal person, to her principles and her people, and as much as she likes to flirt with him, she would have said no.

He must admit, that's also how he likes her. Strong, capable, independent. He would kill no matter who to have her by his side as part of his crew, although he knows it won't happen. He would settle, however, with the -hypothetical- opportunity to meet from time to time on the high seas or on any random island. To sneak away from their crews in secret, to disappear for a few hours in which all his attention, his entire being, could focus on her, lower the curtain just a little, leave the spotlight behind and relax.

There is a small part of him, the one that makes him unable to stop looking intensely at her with those blue eyes that mirrors his own soul, that truly hopes she feels the same.

…

''You know'' she starts, absently stroking his hair, the clown's head in her lap. ''I imagine-- no, I know the whole nose topic is a sensitive thing for you but honestly, it shouldn't-- big noses are incredibly attractive, and yours? Believe me, anyone would want to sit on it.’’

What.

He's so taken aback by the suddenness of the comment he completely forgets what they were talking about before and on top of that, he's unable to reply for some seconds, looking at her like she just started speaking in another, incomprehensible language.

He ends up raising an eyebrow, running his tongue over his red lips. ''Including you?''

''Including me''

''Well, sunshine, today's your lucky day then'' Sitting up, in a blink of her eyes he turns, catches the girl's hips and drags her with him, lying down, leaving her sitting on his chest while he rest his head on the pillow. Buggy winks at her, licking his lips again, this time cheekily rather than thoughtfully. “I’m about to make another one of your dreams come true.”

''Horny bastard.'' she whispers, swallowing saliva. What a view, having him between her legs again. ''Never denied, sweetheart'' with a low, erotic, and breathtaking laugh, he surrounds both her thighs with his arms and pulls her body up in a quick movement, causing a sudden brush of his nose against the inside of her thigh.

(Y/N) shudders and takes a deep breath, spreading her legs a little further as she settles them on the pillow. ''Show me what else you can do, captain.'' To that he just groans, already getting hard with just having her on top of his face and her way of talking to him, pushing his buttons just the right way.

In no time she’s a complete, total, and absolute mess, writhing with pleasure. Hands grabbing his hair, hips rocking over his mouth, forcing his nose to rub against her clitoris, she softly moans his name, an occasional insult or any other possible blasphemy.

''Oh, fuck-- Buggy.''

…

Worn off makeup all around her body, sun setting, long hours spent together in which they have told funny, long stories about each other's life and of course, in which they have ended up letting free -once again- that suffocating sexual tension that attracts them to the other like a month to a lamp. Buggy, surprisingly, ends up letting his guard down to the point where he falls asleep, and not long after, he starts snoring.

(Y/N) knows, it's time to leave and look for her friends. She also knows she warned them about her obsession with the city and that the chances of her getting lost were high, and in that case they should not worry about her, blablabla, because she would come back sooner or later. She didn’t even remotely expect the reason for her disappearance would be a self-declared enemy -Luffy’s enemy- of her crew, tho. Neither was she going to spend so much time away from them to be with him.

The excuses she will need to cover her tracks are endless, and a pain in the ass without even started to think about them yet.

Will Zoro still be lost somewhere on the island? Because she obviously assumed, he got lost as soon as they split.

Still in bed, she takes a moment to calmly look at him. (Y/N) is aware of how this may be the last time they ever see each other, and -not- surprisingly, this thought sparks a pang of sadness in her. She really likes him. She wouldn't say she is in love with him, because those are big words and they barely know each other yet, but... he was right, the chemistry between the two was something impossible to deny. And it hasn't weakened, nor disappeared a single bit after sex. Quite the opposite-- It has become something more, a kind of deep and sincere fondness that in this precise moment, dark outside, distant voices over the window from drunkards and bastards around the streets, his breathing calm for a fraction of second, his eyes closed and the fresh breeze that enters the room, invites her to caress his blue hair while he sleeps, sighing.

It’s been a long, long time since (Y/N)’d enjoyed this kind of genuine, absolute peace, sharing with someone she cares about, a room where time does not exist and life is just a thought instead of reality.

Part of her wishes or better said, acknowledges, she would stay here the entire night if she could. The other says that’s ridiculous, and that those are her hormones talking and nothing else. It would pass.

But does she want it to pass? To fade away?

Finally getting out of bed -all her willpower at once- after long minutes in which she simply memorizes every possible detail around her, she begins to retrieve her clothes scattered throughout the room and get dressed in silence, trying not to wake him up.

Through all this process, in the depths of her head resonates a single thought, ringing as loud and strong as an alarm. She’s unable to shut it up. She can’t ignore it either. It's another kind of thought she shouldn't have, and at the same time… feels so natural, so logical, she doesn't feel guilty for having it.

But should she listen to it? Should she follow it?

Taking a seat in the chair that fulfilled its great purpose a few hours ago, she sighs, again, head resting on her hand, elbow on the table. With a small smile, her eyes fall back on that ridiculous, snoring clown. And then, she just knows.

Reaching to a little secret pocket in her pants, she takes out a small piece of folded paper and starts to open it slowly, being careful to not tear it apart, leaving it on the table of the room once the copy of the map of the Grand Line can be perfectly seen. When (Y/N) suggested her crew make a couple of copies in case something happened to the original, she never thought she would use hers like this, but she doesn't regret it in the slightest.

Biting the tip of her tongue, her eyes scan the partially darkened room, jumping from side to side. When she finally finds what she was looking for, she leans over the table, and taking the pen from the inkwell, she writes in the upper right corner of the map "I will be waiting for you right here, come find me" .

If someone asked her why she does this, why she feels this, why does she decide to ignore her common sense and give something so important to someone as -objectively- miserable as him, she would simply answer that there are things… or better said-- not things, but the little pieces here and there, pieces of himself left in her during conversations, shared glances, laughter, flirts, light touches and the deep strong ones that came after those. It's the way he tried to make her laugh at all costs or how he didn't give up trying to win her over. Those blue eyes so intense she would swear, they reached her soul, or the small, genuine smile she knows she has seen this same afternoon, really far from the forced, crooked, exaggerated ones he usually has.

It is all of this and much more, and opening the door of the room, closing it again so that no one disturbs Buggy while she escapes the building and heads to her ship to find her crew, she knows she can't wait to see him again.

She knows she will. Her sixth sense tells her so.

[confiaenanaa]

Hi!! Could you do one in which Em meets reader's parents and he's nervous they won't like him and keep asking reader how to dress, what to say or do??

nervous - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Marshall's nervous about meeting Y/N's parents.

A/N: had a lot of fun writing this one! I know my chapters are short and stuff, but I hope that soon I'll be able to get one out that's super duper long for you guys!

Marshall had never imagined he’d be sitting on his bedroom floor, surrounded by piles of his best clothes and shoes, all for a girl. Well, not a girl; the girl. Y/N was his diamond, his crown jewel. He adored her in every way possible, which is why he was stressing so hard over meeting her parents. This was a very big deal to him; if her parents didn’t like him, what would come of the relationship? 

-Fuck it. 

That’s what he kept muttering to himself as he dialed Y/N’s number in his phone. It rang once, twice, three times, and finally…

-Hello?

-Hey baby.

-Oh, hey, Marsh! What’s up?

-So, I was picking out what I was gonna wear tonight when I realized that I have nothing!

-You’re so dramatic, you have a huge closet! You’ll find something in there.

She was right. He had a plethora of clothes in various styles. There had to be at least one decent outfit somewhere among the mass of fabric tainting the cleanliness of his bedroom. Sadly, he still thought none of it was good enough.

-I actually don’t. Nothing here is nice enough to wear to meet your parents.

-Marshall, my parents aren’t some strict, stick-up-the-ass, crazy people. They don’t really care about what you’re wearing as long as you don’t look homeless.

-Have you seen what I wear? I do look homeless!

-No… you look like a classy homeless man. There’s a difference.

-Baby, I’m serious. I’m real stressed here.

Y/N sighed at his apprehension. He truly was ridiculous at times. 

-What do you want me to do about it?

-Well, can you come over?

-Fine. Be there in 10.

Y/N hopped in her car after throwing on some clothes and took off. She herself needed to get ready, but that need not be mentioned. She’d figure it out. Once she pulled into his driveway, she saw him standing at the door, visibly anxious. Y/N stepped out of the car and greeted Marshall.

-Hey, baby.

-Hey. Help me please.

He sort of jogged up the stairs and led her to his bedroom. Y/N audibly gasped at the mess he’d made. Clothes strewn all over the floor, shoes on the table, perfumes thrown on his bed, the man was a wreck. 

-Good god.

-I know. I have a bit of a mess. But, ignore that. Can you help me pick everything?

-Yeah. Yeah, okay.

Marshall went through the mess finding outfit after outfit. Y/N said all of them were fine, but he wanted his outfit to be great. At this point, Y/N was saying they were great just to get him off her ass. She was running out of time to get ready. 

-Baby don’t lie to me! Tell me if the clothes are actually good, please.

Y/N groaned and stood up from her spot on the bed. She went over to the pile farthest from them and grabbed a nice shirt. Then, she went over to a pile of jeans on the other end of the floor and picked up a pair of jeans that were nice and hadn’t touched the floor yet. Next, she found the shoe pile and grabbed a matching pair of nice jordans and a nice smelling perfume in the pile next to them. She put it all together in front of Marshall and his jaw dropped slightly. 

-Wha… how did you…?

-Magic. Y/N shrugged. She finally went over to the closet and grabbed the nicest clothes she could find from the small and, quite frankly, lacking collection of clothes she kept at Marshall’s house.

-Wow, baby. You look… great.

Marshall looked like a man reborn; a phoenix reborn from the ashes. He was a new man. He looked classy and spiffed up. He wore nice jewelry and a nice watch, but not so nice as to draw attention or to gloat upon his success. 

-Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.

Y/N smiled as Marshall grabbed her hand and guided her to his car. She knew that her parents would love him no matter what, but she still liked teasing him and making him work for it. 

-Well, are we going?

[fractualized]

Zdarsky’s run on Batman ends soon, thoughts? 🎤

lmao I feel like I could either toss out a dismissive one-liner or rant for like a dozen paragraphs. Guess I'll go with the latter.

We'll, I'm certainly not going to miss him at the helm. I read Batman: The Knight, and even though I agree with the criticism of the end, it showed competent storytelling with a good emotional core, which is the most basic of standards, but let's be real, this is comics, I'll take competent any day. And when his Batman run started, I had caught up on Snyder-King-Tynion Batman and was excited to follow a run in real time.

I'd say I stopped having a good time when Bruce got sent to the alternate universe. Penguin faking his death was fun. Bruce being pursued by a dramatic robot version of himself was fun. Bruce again fretting about protecting the family was… par for the course. Calling back to Zur-En-Arrh didn't bug me because I hadn't read that full storyline yet, so it felt like a gateway to digging back into lore. Bruce surviving a fall through the Earth's atmosphere was too fucking ridiculous but the kind I can look past. (Imagine you're a DC writer. You have the idea: lol what if Batman got out of this by surviving a fall from the moon. You have opened that door in your mind. Do you have the will close it or would you be like FUCK IT LET'S DO IT?)

The Red Mask universe, however, dragged any momentum at that point to a stop, and I honestly don't care enough to dig deep into all the reasons why, which I guess gets at the core of what was wrong with the Red Mask universe. (Skeleton Jim Gordon was the most interesting thing but he was just a temporary side effect or something? Whatever.)

But, of course, since I'm a Joker fan, Darwin Halliday was a major sticking point as the most boring Joker to never joke. Nearly everything Zdarsky did with Joker was a major sticking point.

It still drives me crazy that from Snyder to the Zdarsky run, we had a Joker who tried to force Bruce both away from the batfam and Selina and back to basics multiple times, so their battle could be one-on-one again. We had a Joker who, after Bruce left him to die, was notably depressed and suicidal at the end of Joker 2021. He is still that way at the start of The Man Who Stopped Laughing.

And you could follow from that with the basic beats of what Zdarsky did. You could say Joker is disillusioned with his relationship with Batman, and that's why he turns to Zur-En-Arrh, a real Batman. But no, everything has to be too fucking complicated. We have do yet another retcon of so much other stuff and say that Joker always was looking for Zur. And we have to a weird take on Three Jokers because people were really biting at the bit to get a real answer within canon like a decade after Johns wrote that nonsense?? I don't know, I don't do marketing research, but I'm pretty sure if they just quietly never addressed it, it would be fine.

And the freaking Captio stuff. Ugh. UGH. I really just. I feel like this is a product of overthinking. "Well, Batman is so thoroughly trained, it only makes sense that Joker had at least some of the same training to beat him." No. Fuck that. We don't need that. Joker rivals Batman out of sheer audacity. I like that it doesn't really make sense that a clown pushes him to the limit. I like the juxtaposition of Bruce having to do so much training and learning to survive, but Joker is a cockroach revived by the narrative. I like Joker being a plague and a mystery that Batman cannot resolve. I like Joker being essentially absurd. No, it doesn't make sense, but he's here to stab you out of love and you better know how to dodge.

So much of Batman comics now are not about telling a fun Batman story. They're stories about Batman stories, just circling back and cannibalizing each other into a total fucking mess, and putting the city on the brink of destruction so much that those stakes no longer have meaning. There has to be a writer out there who wants to get back to just telling a smaller action/detective story that makes the reader give a shit about what's happening instead of feeling like maybe they're just not getting it, like they missed homework.

And I say that as someone who started reading Morrison's full run when Zdarsky's started so I could have the Zur background. I had to pause when Morrison's writing got to be too much (for the bad reasons!). I intended to jump back in again, but then Zdarsky's run nosedived and the effort no longer seemed worth it.

Especially when everything paused for Gotham War. Jesus Christ. The only good thing to come out of that was Rosenberg's second Red Hood issue. But speaking of Gotham War, I do wonder if there'll be an article years from now that will reveal Zdarsky had to deal with too much editorial fiat. He had to interrupt his Zur story not only with the badly executed Catwoman plot and the Knight Terrors, but cram in a Three Jokers explanation.

And speaking of Rosenberg, I can't end without mentioning that because he started TMWSL around the same time Zdarsky started on Batman, and they both had their protagonists dealing with other versions of themselves, man, there was such potential for a crossover event. Me and my pals had lots of fun theories about how these series would converge, because the idea that they wouldn't seemed ridiculous. There were two Jokers in TMWSL, and at the same time in Batman #131, Halliday seemed to have created three of them. I didn't like Halliday, but still, what did that mean? It would be ridiculous for those developments to be unrelated, right? RIGHT?

Joke's on us, as usual. 🤪

[amoransia]

Really late, but here's my ekuoto chapter 70 commentary. Nothing special, just me freaking out. You know. The usual.

Watch out for spoilers!

Dante got a very special dialogue balloon with "..." in it. Which is curious to me. I'm sure it means some sort of reflection or surprise happening within him; I really want to what he's thinking. How do you feel? Knowing that the that child you were entrusted can't even bear to be awake anymore? That he runs to escapism? Must suck. Anyway.

On the other hand, dearest Daniel is real composed. Good job on getting info out of Belphegor. That's not really a high bar, though lmao... I mean, how are you a demon and can't LIE? Embarrassing... Go back to demon high school or something. Fall from grace again! The whole premise of your existence is being a lying thing that leads people to sin, and you're here having communication issues??? Dude. That's so moe.

Everyone thinking Belph's got something up his sleeve is fucking hilarious. No. Sorry. He's not Kira or anything like that. It's not all according to his "keikaku". He's just kinda dumb and suffers from Villain Monologue Syndrome...

Him saying "my witch", though... ough! (takes critical hit)

Really funny how he showed him off sleeping and everything. Why are you bragging? Is this something to show off? I guess it is for you... I'd be embarrassed if all my coworkers suddenly saw me sleeping on a plasma 100" inch TV, though. Maybe have a little consideration! Also, I don't think anyone's mentioned this before, but I think it's a cool detail that Priest's in a fetal position. Not only does this position bring one comfort, but it can also represent how he's about to be "reborn" as a witch of Sloth. The sphere he's sleeping in can kinda be a uterus, right?

Belphegor and Mikhail replying to each other while Leah was suffering out of confusion was funny. She got the straight man role forced onto her. Miha's "I see!" was cute. Very casual, as if he wasn't talking to a Demon Lord lol. To be fair, Bel is not really intimidating.

Meanwhile, Vir is busy trying to lead his shounen manga team to victory... (or not really.) They'll definitely get some piece of Belphegor though. I wonder what it'll be... he doesn't have anything like Asmodeus' eyes sticking out, so this is a mystery to me.

Me when I get excited about an interest of mine and end up yapping too much

Dante and Vergilius are heading to the same place, so they'll meet up again... I'm looking forward to the mess that comes out of that 👀.

Imuri needs to step up her game, or I'll be taking matters into my own hands because this is ridiculous. Femme Fatale? Wtf are you talking about. Fraudmuri. The Demon Lord of Fraud. Her true title.

Her biggest crime so far is being more in love with the idea of being in love with Priest than actually caring for him. Does that make sense? So far, she hasn't done any effort in actually coming to know him. She needs to KNOW!!!! At least I can respect that she also takes male rivals seriously... and her aggressiveness towards them. Lole.

She doesn't call Priest "sleepyhead" in the JP raws. I don't really mind the addition, but I thought it was worth noting here anyway. Makes it cute.

"It'll be over soon" Naw bro Imuri is coming at you with a fucking sledgehammer. Watch out.

Tiny Imuri is so fawking cute. I've been craving these Imuri flashbacks for forever because we know virtually nothing about her. What moves her. Why does she long to love!! We'll know in due time, I guess. But please show me a bit of it, Aruma-sensei...

Asmodeus being considerate enough to make sexual things vague to Imuri is nice, but it confuses me a bit. Well. I shan't dwell on it, lest my head blows up.

Imuri seems to have some complex about being a demon with no demon power, because she keeps asserting that she is a demon? Am I explaining this properly? Like in this chapter (ch.70) and chapter 3.

Anywho.

Imuri imagining the BL route... save me... my fucking sides... I burst out laughing the first time my eyes laid on that panel. True to her succubus nature, she didn't even consider the possibility of them using blood or whatever else instead of straight-up KISSING. Those are still bodily fluids, right?? Calm down, girl! Stay put!!!

"I'm not letting his first kiss go to some guy that just appeared!!" HE'S BEEN THERE FOR A DECADE! YOU ARE THE NEWCOMER!!! IMURI, GIRL!! You absolute buffoon! Clown, even!

Whew. Lmao.

This arc also feels like a callback to that one "sleeping beauty" comment from chapter 3.

...except their roles have switched.

This time, Imuri will be the one kissing Father on the cheek to wake him up, and it'll be so, so cute. Trust. Trust me. This will happen. (Going insane).

Go and make him your witch, Imuri... Dew it... Make a move... (screaming and crying)

[onboardsorasora]

7. Made out while in costume at a Halloween Party (I feel like you’d have fun with this one 😈)

Hi Isabeellllll! You're right, I did have fun playing around with this. I have no clue if it is any good or makes sense though 🤣🤞🤞

cw: smut

Max glared across the room at Charles who was giggling merrily and hanging off of Carlos' arms. Lando was there too, very unhappily if his skull painted pout was anything to go by. 

He was supposed to be a skeleton he had said, he and Carlos were supposed to match. But when Carlos had walked in as the perfect Wario to Charles' Daisy– well let's say the pout was a step up from the murderous look from before.

It didn't matter because Max was still annoyed at Charles. They were having a joint birthday party this year in Texas and it was Charles' idea that they have a Halloween themed costume party. 

That wasn't the problem. The problem was that Charles wanted to be in charge of the costumes— and Max, like an idiot, let him. He truly only had himself to blame. Really he did. But he would still blame Charles. Because it made him feel better.

He flounced to the bar, ignoring the flutter of his skirts as he did so. His crown kept shifting atop his head but so far it hasn't fallen all the way off. He wished it were on a hat or something so he could keep track of it. You can't be Princess Peach without a crown, or so Charles had said when Max threatened to chuck it.

The bartender handed him his gin and tonic and Max took a grateful sip.

"Oh Maxy, Maxy, Maxy." The sultry growl made goosebumps rise on Max's glove covered arms. 

Max glanced behind him to see Daniel in his usual skinny jeans, band tee and flannel. He also had wolf claws and ears and fur sticking out in random places. But it was the look in his eyes that truly had Max shivering. It was… predatory.

"Hi Daniel. Do you want a drink?" Max asked, proud that his voice didn't shake or crack.

Daniel stepped forward and crowded into his space. He ran his nose along the slope of Max's neck behind his ear. Max felt some of the fake fur tickle his skin. 

"Daniel?" Max breathed out. He could hear the chatter of the party around them, as drivers got drunker and rowdier. They were at the bar at the back of the room, tucked out of the way, which is probably why Daniel felt brazen enough to do this.

"I'll have a beer, and a shot of tequila Maxy." He spoke lowly into Max's ear. Max nodded stiffly and called over the bartender who was making himself as invisible as possible. The drinks came quickly and Max handed the shot glass to Daniel who—

Daniel bent and grasped the shot glass with his lips, brushing teasingly along Max's fingers as he went. He broke eye contact only when he tipped his head backwards to swallow the liquor. Max numbly accepted the empty glass again and handed over the full bottle of beer. He swallowed the lump in his throat and licked his lips. 

Max wondered what Daniel was up to, they were– they hadn't– in a while. Not since before Zandvoort when Daniel got injured. But he'd been back on the grid since Qatar but they hadn't— Daniel was busier now than he was before the summer break. That's what Max told himself, why they hadn't met up. Why Daniel hadn't invited him over.

"What are you supposed to be?" Max found himself asking. He sipped some of his forgotten drink, his throat was parched.

Daniel smiled wolfishly, it was the only way to explain it. "Me, Pierre and Hulk are a big bad wolf pack."

Max looked around the hairy man to glimpse other equally hairy men in the room. "Clever."

"You look good enough to eat." Daniel's voice dipped again and Max felt a blush bloom as he watched Daniel look him up and down pointedly. Max felt his spine stiffen a little, as ridiculous as the outfit was, he still thought he looked good when he put it on. The pink suited him and the cut of the top showed off his shoulders and chest. Clearly Daniel liked it as well, an added bonus.

Daniel grabbed Max's hand and pulled him out of the room.  They found an empty office and Daniel wasted no time in pressing Max up against the wall and pressed their lips together in a filthy kiss. Daniel pressed his palm into Max's chest, cupping a tit under the sweetheart neckline.

"But Daniel…what big teeth you have." Max's breath hitched as Daniel mouthed at his exposed neck. He moaned and tilted his head backwards ignoring the ting of his crown hitting the floor.

"All the better to crawl under that dress and eat you whole… my dear." Daniel braced his knee between Max's thighs and swallowed his whimper. He licked into Max's mouth and groaned.

"Daniel— please."

Daniel slid to his knees and draped the fabric over his head to envelope himself in Max's scent. Daniel grinned, running his hands up naked legs, and squeezing his thick thigh. He saw Max's knees buckle and pressed his nose against his brief covered erection to help steady him.

Max whined above him and Daniel mouthed at his cock and balls. He only teased for a little longer before dragging Max's briefs down and enveloped his cock with his hot mouth. Pressing his nose into Max's pubes and inhaling deeply then exhaling in a drawn out hum. 

Max made a strangled moan above him and Daniel got to work, sucking greedily at Max's weeping dick groaning at the taste of his pre come on his tongue. it truly didn't take long, not with how worked up Max had been, and soon he was coming down Daniel's throat, cupping the crown of his head through the skirts.

Daniel cleaned Max up and stood, pulling the voluminous fabric from around him. Max watched him, dazed and smiling.

"Let me–"

"No Maxy" Daniel kissed him soundly, licking the freckle on his lip for good measure. "I'm going to come all over you after I rip this dress off of you. Yeah?" Daniel watched as the words registered with another wolfish grin.

[lestappenforever]

Let Them Sing (I'll Make You Scream) - The Monza Lestappen fic

Two things:

This fic was never supposed to exist, but ever since the appearance of my lovely Monza anons earlier this week, I haven't been able to get this idea out of my head.

I'm posting the full fic on Tumblr for the first time ever because it wouldn't have existed if it wasn't for the anons. You can find the fic on AO3 here.

Monza anons, this one is all for you. ❤️

(And the lovely @f1writingbyme for coming up with the title.)

---

“Max,” Charles breathes, his fingers tightening their hold on the blond strands.

Max hums against him, his tongue and two fingers quickly driving the Monégasque towards the edge of insanity as they work him open. Max’s other hand around his cock tightens its hold, wrist flicking deliciously as he reaches the head on the next stroke.

Charles shudders, pushing his head into the pillow as his eyes roll back into his head.

The Dutchman crooks his index finger, brushing against Charles’ prostate, drawing a breathless keen from him.

And yet, all Max is able to hear is the many, many singing voices from outside, their song forcing its way through the closed windows, through the closed balcony doors, penetrating Max’s mind when all he wants to hear is the beautiful noises he knows he can draw out of Charles.

“For fuck’s sake,” Max hisses as he pulls back, his tongue and fingers slipping out of Charles.

The Monégasque groans his protest, forcing his eyes open to look down at Max between his legs. But Max isn’t looking at him, too busy staring at the balcony doors with narrowed eyes. The firm set of his jaw is enough to let Charles know that Max is clenching his teeth together, which he always does when he’s frustrated.

“Will they shut the fuck up if you go out there?” he asks, finally moving his gaze from the balcony doors to Charles.

There’s a flush on his cheeks and his lips are glistening with saliva and lube. His hair, where Charles’ hands are still curled, is sticking up in every direction. There’s irritation — anger — in his eyes that looks like a raging storm on its way to wreak havoc on whatever stands in its way. It shouldn’t make Charles’ dick twitch with want, and yet, that’s exactly what it does.

“Why? Are they distracting you?” Charles asks, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Max pinches the inside of his thigh, hard. “The fact that they’re not distracting you is a little concerning.”

Charles shrugs. “What can I say? I like being worshiped.”

“I know,” Max agrees, leaning in to nibble at the inside of Charles’ other thigh, sending a full-body shudder through him. “I’m kind of trying to worship you here. So get your ass out there and give them a little wave so we can get back to it.” He slaps Charles’ thigh playfully for good measure.

Charles snorts, lifting his leg and gracefully moving it over Max’s head so he can roll to the side of the bed and get to his feet. He hastily gets dressed, foregoing boxers, and makes his way to the balcony, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

Max rolls onto his side on the bed, watching as Charles steps outside and listening to how the Tifosi crowd waiting below the balcony fucking roar at the sight of him. It makes the Dutchman roll his eyes because the love the Italian fans have for Ferrari — for Charles — is borderline ridiculous. It’s unlike anything Max has ever seen anywhere else, and it’s everything Charles deserves. He deserves to have fans as devoted to him as the Tifosi, and Max sees how much it means to him. Hell, his post-qualifying interview that very same day and how Charles needed to stop midway to take it all in before barreling on in Italian proved just how much it means to him.

Does Max believe that Ferrari deserves Charles? At the moment, absolutely not. But there is no denying that Charles deserves this.

He watches as Charles waves to the crowd — watches as the Monegasqué fishes his phone out of his pocket to capture this moment, their devotion — and he wonders what the crowd would think if they knew that their Il Predestinato had been spread open by Max Verstappen’s fingers and tongue mere minutes before. Wonders what they would think if they knew that as much as Charles is enjoying their attention, he’s probably thinking about how badly he wants to get back into that hotel room and have Max fuck him until he can’t even remember his own name, let alone remember what the Tifosi refer to him as.

Smiling, Max wraps a lube-slicked hand around his dick and starts stroking himself slowly, watching Charles from the back as he gazes down at the crowd. A full minute passes before Charles glances back at him over his shoulder, and that soft, adoring smile is quickly replaced by something else as his eyes follow the movement of Max’s hand on his dick. Something primal. Something urgent.

Max winks at him.

The Monegasqué’s cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink before he turns back to the Tifosi, giving them another few seconds of his attention before he waves them goodnight and retreats into the hotel room, shutting the balcony doors behind him and drawing the curtains. He’s naked and on the bed, straddling Max’s hips in a matter of seconds.

“Not distracted anymore?” Charles asks as he reaches behind himself and gets Max’s hand out of the way, replacing it with his own around the base of the Dutchman’s cock.

Max’s hands come up to grip Charles’ waist, sucking in a sharp breath as the Monegasqué manages to stroke him despite the slightly awkward angle. “They’re not as loud anymore,” Max says, sounding slightly out of breath as his fingers sink into Charles’ soft skin. “The power of Il Predestinato.”

Charles huffs a laugh and shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue. After all, you can’t argue with the truth: the way the crowd had stopped booing Max almost entirely ahead for his post-qualifying interview when Charles motioned for them to stop was proof enough of the power he holds with the Tifosi.

As Charles positions the head of Max’s cock against his entrance, Max squeezes Charles’ waist.

“If only they could see you like this, baby,” Max purrs, watching with awe as Charles lowers himself slowly onto Max’s aching cock. A soft moan escapes him at the warm tightness that surrounds him.

Charles gasps, eyes fluttering shut as he sinks down further, his body taking Max’s length and girth with ease. Max’s hands move from his waist to Charles’ hips, holding him in place once Charles is fully seated on Max’s cock, keeping him from moving back up.

“If only they knew that their precious Il Predestinato lets Max Verstappen fuck him every chance he gets,” Max goes on, watching as Charles bites his bottom lip in a futile attempt to hold back a moan. “How do you think they’d feel about that, Charles?”

Charles braces himself with his hands on Max’s chest as he slowly raises his hips, aided by Max’s strong hold on them. He doesn’t stop moving until the head of Max’s cock is only barely still inside of him. And he stays like that, hovering above Max.

“Would you like to go out there and find out?” Charles asks, his voice cracking slightly on the last syllable. He watches the way the Dutchman’s eyes turn darker with desire. With need.

“No,” he says through gritted teeth, as Charles slides back down agonizingly slowly, making Max’s head spin. “I’m the only one who gets to see this side of you.”

Charles hums, clenching around Max’s cock teasingly and drawing a bitten off moan from the Dutchman. Outside, the tifosi are still gathered outside the gates, singing their hearts and lungs out. Although Max was right about them having gone a little more quiet now, their chants and songs and screams are still loud in the room. He leans down, letting his lips brush against Max’s. “Think you can make me drown them out?” he whispers.

In the blink of an eye, Charles is the one on his back on the bed with Max kneeling between his legs, his hands on either side of Charles’ head and their faces mere inches apart. When he speaks, Max’s breath ghosts over Charles’ lips.

“You think I can’t?” he asks, and Charles knows there’s only one right answer to that question.

But, the right answer won’t get him the Max Verstappen he so desperately wants tonight. So Charles gives the wrong one, lying through his teeth.

“No, I don’t think you can.”

And, well, Max Verstappen has never been one to back down from a challenge.

He claims Charles’ mouth in a kiss that is every bit as frantic and desperate to prove something as Max feels, tongue and teeth doing everything in their power to steal every breath from Charles’ lungs as Max’s hips immediately take up a damn near brutal pace. And when Max pulls away from Charles’ lips in order to grab onto his hips to really start fucking the Monegasqué with vigor, Charles can do absolutely nothing except for hold on for dear life and letting the intense pleasure overtake him.

And when Charles comes with a scream that is loud enough to drown out the screams of the tifosi, Max is dragged right over the edge along with him.

The tifosi can scream the name of Ferrari’s golden boy all they want, because two-time World Champion Max Verstappen is the only one who can make Charles Leclerc scream his name in bed whenever the fuck he wants.

And if that makes Max feel more superior than winning any race or any championship ever has, then, well… That’s nobody’s business but his own. (And Charles’.)

[ananke-xiii]

My ranking of SPN seasons (based only on their PLOT) pt. 2

In my previous post I'v covered the following:

15: Season 14

14: Season 15

13: season 7

12: season 3

11: season 6

Let's continue!

10. Season 13: this season was a HUGE disappointment to me. The first 6 episodes are brilliant, the writing is excellent, the actors gave their best performances, the scenes were well thought out, the pacing is slow but keeps the audience interested. The plot is intriguing: the heroes are mouring the death of Castiel while trying to both find a way to find their mother and to take care of Jack. In the meantime, the audience comes to understand that there's a new player in town: The Empty. It's mysterious, it seems evil, it seems total. I'm hooked. However, after episode 6 the plot sort of changes, it's like the first 6 episodes were a completely different season. By the end of season 12 we were already introduced to the existence of a parallel world and after episode 6 of season 13 we kind of explore more of it. The plot goes in that direction: the heroes must go to the alternate universe to save their mother. However, frankly, it's all very messy and overly complicated. I'm usually super pro AU, different timelines, same characters but from parallel realities and the like, but this time I was not engaged. I felt quite let down by this season (which also ends in a ridiculous battle that, once again, undermines everything that was said&done in season 5 but OKAY!).

9. Season 12: this season is a bit of a mystery to me. The main plot is: find Lucifer, consequently find Kelly Kleine and ultimately find Lucifer's son. So far so good. I like it. Clear, linear yet stimulating. The subplot is Mary Winchester and the British Men of Letters. Now, while I enjoyed Mary's character I utterly hated the whole BML arc. Just hated it. That Ketch? I hate him. I have no rational reason to explain why but I really hoped he would be killed off by the end of the season but surprise! He'll stick with us until season 15. Not amused. To be fair, the BML is not really a subplot, more of a parallel plot in that it has no correlation whatsover to the main plot. Also, some crazy shit happens in this season like Dean and Sam get caught by a super special police force, are imprisoned for like 3 months or something? unalive themselves, come back to life by making a reckless deal with Billie the reaper, and then go back to normal and no mention of it all is ever made. Well, okay writers' room. All in all, I gotta say that I place this season here in my ranking because it has some amazing episodes and the ending is a bomb. So I gotta give credit where credit's due.

8. Season 1: hear me out, I know that for some this is an iconic season and, honestly, fair enough. But, as any other season 1 of the majority of TV shows, the plot is not exactly exciting? Sure, we get to know our heroes and their backstories, but there are no allies, no other interesting characters, the 2 heroes seem to be living in a vacuum. The plot is simple, clean and intriguing enough to keep you watching, but it doesn't exactly keep you on your toes.

7. Season 10: oh my, oh my. Season 10. WELL. I have to confess that I hated this season with a passion. This is where I was tempted to stop watching Supernatural. I'll tell you why but first, the plot: Sam and Cas try to save Dean from the Mark of Cain. The subplots? Cas trying to bring angels back to Heaven (?), then the whole Castiel/Claire arc, then again Castiel vs Metatron, the mini and insignificant arc centered on Cole... Many, too many for my taste. The effect is that all these subplots are smoke in the eyes to cover for the total absence of creativity to solve the Mark of Cain plot. HOWEVER, however. Since I hated it with a passion, I've decided to watch some episodes again and to read some meta about it. And I gotta say, I was not paying attention. Sure, the plot is what it is and I won't change my mind about it, but ACTUALLY what happens in this season is that the REAL plot is characters' development, specifically Dean's and, to a lesser degree, Cas's. It also makes more sense if you understand that the whole season is about the Dean-Crowley-Cas love triangle. If you get that, you will enjoy the season. I didn't and, as a result, I didn't quite like it. But I gotta be honest and say that the writing for this season was pretty good. Finally, like season 7, this is a connecting season, it prepares us for season 11 where the real prize is. So, in retrospective, I think it deserves ranking number 7 because it didn't give us anything substantial in terms of events but the characters grow a lot after this season so good for them (and for us).

[retphienix]

I figure I'll be saying nothing unusual in the slightest but-

I have, overall, helped 3 separate tenno on their journey over the years in 'more than minor' ways and a few "sticking points" have become.... extremely painfully obvious in doing so.

Because when *I* was progressing through warframe, I wasn't afraid to just say "Fuck it, later" to whatever line of progression got too annoying- but when you're specifically trying to match a friend and do the same content they are doing, you can't always say that.

So things that just rolled over me and didn't have vast impacts on my experience because I simply came back when I felt like it were EXTREME STICKING POINTS for many of them- to the point where what I would initially call "Minor ideas to improve progression/grind" are now seeming more and more like "MAJOR FLAWS IN PROGRESSION THAT COULD REALLY USE ALTERNATIVE AVENUES".

And again- these things weren't that annoying For Me, but they were EXTREMELY annoying For People Who Wanted To Match Where I Am NOW, and to be frank, I agree in that context- like why the fuck are these parts of the game so bottlenecked in mediocrity.

And again again- I understand warframe as a whole has design decisions built around slowing the player down, prolonging progress, and generally not being "too" rewarding in an effort to profit off inconvenience.

I also fucking hate that, btw, I hate that we live in a time where games just do that, but I digress because this conversation is slightly more "Yeah, you could and should change that" than me just saying "Be a perfect game."

Rambling and not editing the above: The fact that the modern game still has the horrendous setup for how Fortuna/Vox rep works, where you are expected to MAX fortuna in order to even begin meaningfully doing Vox stuff like Profit Taker, where Fortuna STILL TO THIS DAY has no reasonable grind for specific bonds- with Medical Bonds being tied to ONE bounty at a low drop rate in a low amount while needing a lot of them as tribute to rank up- good luck getting our bestie to sell you enough of them or even affording that-

-or where in order to get remotely close to current stuff you have to do all the old quests, then spend a week grinding SPECIFICALLY for necramech stuff (POST NERF WHERE YOU CAN BUY DAMAGED PARTS!!!!) which DEMANDS players go fishing and mining to an extreme amount in a location that has FAR TOO FUCKING MANY DIFFERENT FISH AND ORE AND NO GOOD BAIT IN COMPARISON TO OLD OPEN WORLDS LIKE WTF IS THAT DESIGN DECISION WHEN MINING AND FISHING IN CETUS/FORTUNA IS LIKE 99% OPTIONAL FOR OPTIONAL STUFF LIKE AMP UPGRADES, ZAWS, AND KITGUNS???

-or where you ALSO have to dedicate time to grinding a fucking railjack of all things- the most MEANINGLESS mainstay in your entire arsenal by all accounts and I say that as a huge RJ fan! What does it do!!!? NOTHING! Arch can speed you up in open world! Necra can trivialize open world! RAIL! DOES! NOTHING! WHY DO YOU NEED IT FOR THE QUEST BEYOND "It's a sense of progression that you earned this :)" NO!!! STOP!!

-or even just the BASIC fact that in order to do FUCKING STEEL PATH- you know, that basic step in progression that opens up a fuckton of potential in your kit and like almost all worthwhile content is best done in steel path? Yeah? GOTTA DO EVERY SINGLE NODE! What a MEANINGLESS task! I mean it!

---

Anyways I'm just ranting I think.

Fortuna/Vox is a busted ass rep grind- there is no reason you should need to MAX Fortuna rep in order to do VOX stuff, that's just ridiculously put together and outdated. I'd bet money, because I was FUCKING THERE, that the entire reason it's STILL like that is because they were desperately trying to delay people grinding Vox rep and doing Profit Taker because, spoiler, PT wasn't there.

They made the max rep a requirement because the content behind it didn't exist yet, and then the content released bugged as fuck so they never adjusted it. It works now but too late! Keeping the STUPID fucking rep progression as is!

Forced fishing and mining (on the worst planet to do it on to boot) for KEY QUEST PROGRESSION is just fucking stupid- oh hello Necramech.

Forced Mech and RJ just to do New War is also suspect because both of them practically just get a cameo appearance in the fucking quest, yet MAJOR PROGRESSION is tied to finishing both, cool.

And *I* enjoyed clearing all the nodes. I also wasn't in any hurry to do so. But why the fuck does every single player need to complete like 250 nodes of the same handful of gametypes in order to just do SP? Ridiculously outdated and needs trimmed, either in total missions period or in what's required.

/rant because having to tell people who enjoy warframe "Oh yeah.. uh... yeah you HAVE to do that" and hearing them go "....Seriously?" fucking sucks./

[finalgirlkateausten]

this one has succession potential :) “Tomorrow is Take Your Kid to Work Day.”

Shiv is more than happy to let Tom tuck the girls into bed tonight-- their third daughter, just a few weeks from making her entrance into the world, is taking up all her energy these days, and she feels like she herself could use a seven-thirty bedtime as well.

Walking past the nursery, though, she overhears a conversation that makes her pause outside the door.

"Lainey, Genevieve," Tom says, "are you excited to come see where Mommy and Daddy work tomorrow?"

There are sleepy, high-octave noises of excitement, but Shiv sticks her head in the doorway to make eye contact with her husband. "Tom," she hisses, "what?"

He blinks up at her, his work shirt rumpled, his eyes deep and calm. "Tomorrow is take your kid to work day."

"Okay, well, we're not doing that," Shiv says, grimacing and avoiding the curious gazes of her daughters, who are already enticed by the offer. "That-- that doesn't apply to the CEO-- right?"

"Why shouldn't it?" Tom cocks his head, his lips pressed together, the expression somewhere between confused and guilt-tripping. Shiv glares.

"Because you're going to parade them around for ten minutes and then feed them ice cream for lunch and then use them to push me out of anything you can get away with calling 'important' as if this one isn't already doing that," she snaps, gesturing to her belly under her dressing gown. "I had to suffer through the same bullshit when I was their age--" she doesn't want to get into that. Six years out and she can't talk about her father without crying or yelling, neither of which she wants to do in her daughters' room. "--besides, Gen has school."

"Do I have to?" Genevieve interjects.

"Yes," Shiv says shortly.

"I thought it was scheduled for before schools went back from Winter Break," Tom tries.

Shiv rolls her eyes. "Did you forget the part where we're paying the GDP of a small country to have her in private school? The schedule's different, Tom."

"Mommyyyyyy, why not?" Lainey pleads, the last word turning into a whine.

Shiv sighs, resists the urge to roll her eyes, and sits down on her youngest daughter's bed instead. "Because, honey," she says, as patient as she can, "Mommy and Daddy are both very busy. It's not fun for you guys while you're so small. We have to do important work, and if we're worried about you two wandering off or getting into trouble, we won't be able to work well. You would just be watching shows or coloring like you do with Chloe, but it wouldn't even be that fun because we won't be able to do it with you."

Genevieve's brow furrows first. "That's boring."

Shiv nods in agreement, matching the ridiculously serious expression on her daughter's face. "It is."

"Don't wanna go work," Lainey declares, her voice full of the whining vowels and blurry consonants of toddlerhood. "Wanna go playground."

"It might be too cold for that, sweetheart," Tom interjects.

Shiv glares at him, wishing he would get her pretty fucking clear message to shut his mouth. "We'll see, honey. You can ask Chloe in the morning."

Lainey nods, seeming satisfied. "Tired now."

Genevieve pouts. "Noooo, I don't wanna go to bed. One more book?"

"We've already read three, honey," Tom says, but Shiv reaches around her belly and her daughter curled into her side and pulls Goodnight Moon from the nightstand.

"I've got them," she tells her husband. "You can get ready for bed."

Tom stands but hovers, looking uncertain.

Shiv adjusts Lainey where she's pillowed against her sensitive breasts and wraps her other arm around Gen. "Go," she insists. "I'll stay here for a while."

Tom finally leaves, and the tension in the room disappears. Relieved, Shiv reads until she's hoarse and her girls are both asleep, and then, in the middle of the large but not-big-enough nursery bed, she falls asleep herself.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

So, with all the horrid stuff coming your way, Ange, I'm going to sit and counter it all.

Now, to those of you who seem to be convinced that she owes you interaction, know this: Nobody helped her get any interaction when she started. She did it all on her own. Ange is a phenomenal writer, and a lot of us in the fandom know it.

Now despite this, she chooses to be supportive of new writers that she happens across.

Exhibit A: ME.

I started writing here in the fag end of March, so that's like 3-4 months that I've been here. Now I need you guys to know this - I'm 21 and I've just started my career as a writer [I plan, curate and write content in the digital marketing space in ENGLISH] and there have been many times over the last few months where I've been ridiculously insecure about my capabilities, and I've doubted whether or not I'm good at my job many times.

This has to do with the fact that I come from a non-English speaking country. I speak three different languages a lot more than I speak english - meaning, I'm bound to make mistakes. But there's not a lot of room for that when you're a professional.

Now, my english is not shitty by any means. Some may say it is really good. But here's the thing - there is a lot of colloquialism in the way I speak. There is the Indian way of speaking, and there's the native, international way of speaking. The Indian way of speaking is not far off - but I am a professional who writes content for an international digital space. I'll have to better myself. That's why I came here. I wanted a fun way to practice writing!

Now, enter Ange - for those of you who may not know, she's a native english speaker who writes for a living too, with considerable experience if I'm not wrong. She's my beta. She proofreads the ever-loving shit out of my work, and whatever you guys read - believe me. It was not that great when I sent it to her.

With every correction you make, you makes my writing better. I learn from you each time, and I freak about my stories with you. I literally do by side-by-sides for fun, just to see what you've changed and mentally kick myself coz "HOW THE HECK DID I NOT SEE THIS SOONER?"

I was hired at my job because my employer saw potential, but it was under the promise that I get better with each day. And you have no idea how much of an impact the kinks you iron out in my work have had on me and my writing. I trembled about posting here when I did for the first time, and now I'm confident enough not to beat myself and actually feel proud. Not just here, but at work too. A lot of it has to do with you, and I'm so glad that I write here because this was supposed to be a silly little hobby - but now it's more.

So NO. You guys are wrong. Not only is she insanely supportive of new writers on the block, she also goes above and beyond for anyone who wants help with their fics. She always takes care to give my work her very best, because I believe it's just who she is.

But you know what I had to do for it? I had to approach her. Nicely. Because what you give is what you get. I was nice enough to her, and she's given it back to me. There are many writers apart from me who'd gladly talk about how she's supported them too. Nice people, who were good to her.

So no, you don't get to feel entitled to her time and expect good treatment from her. Not when you never tried.

Now, to those of you who seem to be intent on being mean to her for no reason, saying stuff like she may not be cool IRL-

I have been ridiculously anxious and painfully self-conscious my whole life (thanks mum and dad.) It has seriously affected my outwardness, which is why I keep to myself here unless I have something nice to say about someone's writing.

I only regularly talk to a handful of people here because I like sticking to those I'm comfortable with, and Ange is easily one of those few. She's insanely understanding my timidness and makes it very easy for me to talk to her. She's part of the reason why tumblr is a safe space for me, and she is one of the few that I seek out to talk to here. She supported me when I had fandom drama, and I am more than thankful that I have her in my corner here.

Now I like to think that if she's that nice here, she could only be a 1000 times better IRL.❤️

So yeah, that's my piece. I'm glad you turned anon off ange. You deserve a happy space here, and I hope all the way to the moon and back that you get it. For all that you've been put through here, you deserve nothing else. Ilysm bb, have the day you deserve. You are so loved here.❤️🫂

Sam, this made me tear up. Thank you so much for your sweet words. You are truly one of the kindest souls I have ever had the pleasure of meeting on this hellsite, and I will gladly be your beta for as long as you're happy to put up with the glacial pace I edit at. I love you <3

[cellsshapedlikestars]

while bridgerton is classic regency romance, i’m also really partial to mary balogh. her westcott, bedwyn, and survivor’s club series are all really good

I'll admit, I've only read one Bridgerton book. I mostly liked it until the end when she tried to deal with trauma and it felt very clunky and poorly done. It was the second book, with Kate & Anthony, who I... didn't hate like I did in the show 😂

Funnily enough, Mary Balogh wrote the book I just finished. Someone to Love from The Wescott series, and you know what. I actually NEED to talk about this book so I'm using this golden opportunity to ramble and I'm sorry.

I'm gonna preface by saying that besides these two points, I very much enjoyed the plot and was very engaged by it

Let's get this out of the way first: very often I come across issues in romance books where something makes me real uncomfortable. In this one, it was the main dude finding some mystical Chinese man to teach him kung fu and make him all powerful or whatever. Like... YIKES. And this was published in 2016

Now that that's out of the way, the thing I REALLY need to talk about (though much less serious/important).

So the main guy's whole thing is that he's small? Like he gets teased as a kid for looking like a girl and he's weak, blah bah blah. And that doesn't magically go away with some growth spurt, which is kind of nice! I appreciate what the author was trying to do, the male love interest doesn't have to be crazy tall & built to be sexy. Great message! But I think she just... overdid it or something? She just talks about how small he is CONSTANTLY (he's still taller than the female protagonist, so I think this is maybe why it sticks out so much? It's always from the female's POV saying how small he is (but don't worry, he's sexily lean & powerful with his kung fu muscles)). She makes mention of it in seemingly every paragraph as we lead up to the sex scene (which was disappointing and boring and awkward, I have been ruined by fanfic smut). The female protagonist is also described by the man as very stiff/proper/no frills/etc. So by the time we get to the already awkward sex scene, all I can picture is Lord Farquaad with Jaime Lannister hair trying to sensually fuck this girl who just LAYS THERE stiff as a board, and I lost my actual shit and laughed my way through the wedding night scene

*to be fair to this book, I take medical marijuana every night to help me sleep and it uh really does make everything funnier & more ridiculous. some of my best fic ideas & my most rambling tumblr posts are because of it (like now!)

**sorry to anyone who was into show Anthony Bridgerton but dear god was he a misogynistic ass and I stg that actor took the Joey Tribbiani school of smell the fart acting. no I will not be taking any notes

[claire-starsword]

The Guardiana Magic School Run - Part 12

We begin Chapter 4 with more cryptid sightings.

And now some more promotion whining. Khris is up for promotion now, however, like Lowe, I can delay her until level 16 to get Heal 3 faster, at the expense of delaying Heal 4 until level 21 promoted. I already said I prefer doing that.

But Khris has another thing to consider, which is Aura. She learns Aura 1 at level 20, which means I could get it earlier by delaying her promotion even more, however that super delays both the aforementioned Heal 4 and Aura 2, which is all the way at level 28. I'm okay with that because I doubt I'd be getting to that level anyway

My actual worry is that she doesn't get to that level quickly enough and misses promotion only weapons. So while the initial plan is to promote her at 20, I might change my mind if I decide I need her attack more.

Whining done, let's explore my favorite town of Pao. We find a Long Sword, which Max still can equip despite being unpromoted, so I'll just carry on with him like this I guess. I could buy the Mermanbuster from the deals now and promote Max, but he's being super busted for now so let's maybe save money, I don't remember what things we might want to buy later on.

There are no new deals. The regular Weapon Shop offers us the Power Lance, which is stronger than the Power Spear, but weaker than the Elf Slayer so it doesn't matter for us. And then there's the Paralyzer… which is already a Vicar-only weapon. Uh oh. I forgot about this. Maybe this means the healers are already behind in attack but, I again don't think I want to risk them attacking in the next battle. Actually I'm very afraid of the next battle, I'm expecting it to end to current deathless streak.

To put some more pressure in, this shop will leave before the battle, so I have to make a decision now. I'm sticking to my plan of delaying the priests' promotion then, but I might reevaluate depending on how things go.

And that's it. The Pao train has moved on and so must we. We get to say hi to Kokichi and Vankar but can't even sell their weapons for profit right now.

The Raging Drum is an anti-artillery axe. We don't have axe users in this playthrough so that means nothing to us.

Anri is right. Look at all those enemies. They don't advance at once, they come in waves, but still gather faster than you'd expect, especially with us having only eight characters to attack. The terrain is also completely plain and wide, so it's hard to protect the squishy characters. If you don't recall, six out of my eight characters are squishy. There's a reason I expect to die.

We're also at a ridiculous distance from then so there's not much to do for now. I do wonder if I can try sticking a bit to the north or south and approach one side of his army first. I never tried before because I don't really think when playing Shining Force casually.

Okay so I goofed up and picked to go north, but there's barely any space to move around them here, there's more space to the south but i don't think i have the time to correct course when the wave of knights is coming behind them. I'm also unsure if these guys can be baited at all, since they're lining up in a pretty formation.

More importantly, remember when I said it sucks to not be able to see enemy stats before attacking them once? This battle is why. One of the lizardmen, the middle one i think, has the heat axe equipped, and deals way more damage. I would love to wipe that one first, but that means throwing myself in the very middle of their formation.

This battle sucks man I have no clue what to do here.

The lizardmen indeed do not advance easily, and the pegasus knights are basically already here. I wonder if they advance easily due to their movement, or if they'll stop somewhere as well. I'm honestly so clueless as to how to approach them that i might as well observe a little.

hell

The Silver Knights are also already coming and I have definitely messed up at this point.

Somehow I've managed to bait only a few enemies, but the lizardmen are dealing 2 damage each (without the heat axe!!), and baby, I'm deeply missing when that number was always 1.

and this is just horrifying

But if I'm horrified, Max is PISSED OFF about it. Please keep this energy man.

Tao gets in the range of enemies doing this but Gong will be able to cover her before any of them move. Will he survive? That's the question.

All I can say is that no one will survive her. Sadly this thing is 8 MP so she has like, three uses of it. Definitely won't be able to save them for Elliot, I have no clue how I'm gonna deal with Elliot actually, I don't trust anyone escept Max to approach him, I'm starting to think I REALLY should have bought the mermanbuster.

Okay it does seem like I hit a sweet spot in this field by accident. Max and Gong defeat the remaining lizardman, and only a Silver Knight advances, and they're weaker than everything else here. A Dark Priest also comes to heal Max's counterattack on the knight, and I sure would love to wipe these guys out before they heal something stronger. I'll also save Tao's MP for stronger enemies.

Max defeats the priest, Gong attacks the Silver Knight, but I'm too scared to advance anyone else! And I was right, because the Heat Axe guy finally comes:

If they did a second attack, we would have been toast.

There has to be a smarter way to do this fight but man, I don't know it.

At least Tao gets to solve the problem.

As seen by another patented Arthur Level Up, everyone gathers to defeat the previous wave of enemies, even though Anri is at reach of enemies now and I hate it, thankfully they are obsessed with Max as usual.

Now that the Super Heat Lizard is gone, the pegasus knights are by far the bigger threat (28 attack against 22 and 20 from the lizardmen and silver knights). Unfortunately there's two of them while Tao only has one more Blaze 3, but I'll use anyway, I suspect Elliot is resistant to magic. Most bosses are.

I legit don't know what I'm gonna do about Elliot :')

Next turn. We're alive! Somehow! Even though I risked Anri in front of the Silver Knight and Arthur did The Exact amount of damage to finish them off, nothing more, nothing less. The final enemies refuse to advance, so I finally have some attempt at positioning.

And by that I mean let's just send Max as usual.

After two turns in which Max and the knights decide to be the spiciest lads and trade a bunch of counters and double attacks, we wipe out everyone at the center. Hurray. Now I cannot avoid dealing with Elliot any longer.

I'm hoping to bait the enemies without Elliot, bosses don't move much.

I cannot complain, enemies are obedient in this game.

Also, check out this sweet attack boost from Gong!

Will he advance if I do this? I considered doing it with Max before the classic issue of "oh no what if I lose the whole battle" popped up, so yeah, sorry Gong as usual.

He survives with more than half HP!

He counters!

Alright this should mean Max also survives, so screw strategy, throw everything in this man.

I'm worried about counters though, bosses do A LOT of that in this game, so let's start with Supernova.

It might also be doing more damage.

So yeah, it turns out he only has 10% magic res, so saving Tao could have been useful, but things still work out despite Arthur missing a hit. Anri even gets the kill, which is exp she needs.

And then we get something even better. Narsha. Who you don't get to see because I hit image limit, my bad.

And I just realized our team members don't end there. There's Domingo!

We're ridiculously close to have a full team, we're at 9/12 characters.

My power is also dangerously close to going out rn, so I'm saving for today.

___

Note: the above was played a few weeks ago. The power indeed went out in the next minutes due to a storm, but thankfully it was all fine on our side.

I do need to add something now that the threat of power outage isn't dangling over me, though. This has been a way easier challenge than i initially expected, which is kinda nice as it means i've learned to play the game better, but also kinda boring for a challenge run. And I don't see this changing for now, the next battles in Chapter 4 and 5 tend to be easy for me even on casual play, with a difficulty spike only in Chapter 6.

I've even been feeling a bit unmotivated to continue because of that, so I might make simpler posts for those battles compared to how I've done things so far. Obviously that'll change if something exciting does happen, but I figured I'd give a heads up for this possibility.

Losses: 0 Deaths: 2. Somehow.

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 6, Part 2

Reece is trying to practice football as much as he can before he actually has a practice to attend.

Happy to report I clocked both Paris and Deanna still crushing on each other despite it being several in game weeks since I played Deanna's household. They are so adorable. Fingers crossed the sentiments stick around for when I next get back to the Yorks.

Cannot emphasize enough how less creepy the teddy is than the doll.

Bob: What about you Charlie? Giving Harvey any grandkids soon?

Harvey: Bob she's only 24

Charlie: I don't think I want to be pregnant so only time will tell

Harvey: Don't feel like you have to have kids

Carson: Hey mum

Kayleigh: Yes

Carson: The other day at recess I was all by myself and I wasn't sure what I should do when that happens

Kayleigh: Go ask some other kids if you can play with them, bravery has its rewards

Carson: Okay

Reece: You're a professional athlete, you must be able to throw a football with me

Charlie: Toss it

*Charlie ducks*

Reece: What was that?

Charlie: Sorry! I am clumsy, maybe that's why I couldn't catch it

Reece: Why do these interactions keep failing

Charlie: No clue bro

Reece: Thanks for trying

Charlie: What can I say, I'm more soccer than football

Harvey: DINNER EVERYONE!

Charlie: Come on, I'll race ya

Carson: And then, then, the scout leader said to throw it in the trash. Cardboard, in the trash!

Reece: That's basic of him

Kayleigh: Not everyone understands recycling

Harvey: I mean the only proper recycling bins are cc

Carson: So we should just keep throwing everything away into bins that never get collected and never get full

Reece: Ummm

Charlie: There are recycling machines though, right?

Carson: Machines, not bins. The recycling happens too late

Kayleigh: I'm pretty sure the eco footprint doesn't get impacted, no matter how much rubbish we produce

Carson: Ridiculous

Reece: I mean why should our environment be negatively affected because our plumbing breaks

Carson: Because that's life, the more waste we produce the worse the world gets

Charlie: Dam when did you get so heavy

Carson: I just don't want the global boiling to get us

Harvey: Son, we're sims, global boiling will not get us

Reece: But how do you know

Kayleigh: That's not helpful Reece

Reece: Excuse me for thinking

Kayleigh: Carson, we do what we can, and hopefully if other families do the same then the world will get better

Carson: You're right, at scouts we should get the message to other families to try help

After dinner Reece goes for a run because despite playing football with 4 people today he has a tense moodlet from not having enough exercise? Doesn't make sense to me either.

(Me from the future. It was a glitch. I forgot Reece doesn't actually have the active trait so definitely shouldn't have got that)

Harvey does a spot of night fishing and these views always take my breath away.

Kayleigh: Where's Kaori?

Charlie: Spending time with her grandparents. They're getting old and she's worried about how much longer they'll be here

Kayleigh: After losing her parents who can blame her for that

Charlie: I know, thanks for not being dead mum

Kayleigh: I do my best

This week's holiday is named Is It Spring Yet. Occurring on the last Sunday of winter, goals include healthy cooking, fasting and exercising. It's meant to be the opposite side of the coin to Food Coma day, and I was hard pressed to think of 16 legit holidays.

Kayleigh tries to sunbathe. I loved getting the massive skintone update. It does mean my sims tans have unpredictable outcomes though which can be good or hilarious. Carson has also entered a Clingy phase. And the tan is... not the worst one I've ever seen I guess. I might need to darken her hair though...

Football captain Lilith has accepted Reece's invitation to hang out. After some less than stellar practice Reece takes a selfie to try boost friendship, alas that feature doesn't work anymore, sorry mate. Try a conversation instead.

Lilith: I hope you improve before practice

Reece: Fitness is a weakness of mine but I love wellness so

Lilith: Different ball game kid. Is that your mum running in this heat?

Reece: Yeah, we're a fitness centric family

Lilith: That's good, it'll help

Reece: Any other tips

Lilith: Spend some time at lunches practicing with Samir, you need to get better aim

Reece: Right, I guess I'll do that then

Lilith: Smile kid, none of us start out perfect at anything

Reece: True

Lilith: I can tell you want to give this a proper go so keep practicing

Carson: Reece! Reece! Help me ride a bike

Reece: Scouts over already?

Carson: Yes. I achieved my aspiration this morning with level 10 motor skill but I still can't ride a bike

Reece: How embarrassing for you

Carson: Huh?

Reece has begun a mean phase, fingers crossed it's short

Lilith: Is this fish burnt?

Harvey: It's intentional

Kayleigh: We have other food if that's no good

Lilith: Oh no Mrs Foster, it'll be fine. Reece you didn't say your mum was a celebrity, this artwork is amazing

Kayleigh: Thank you dear, feel free to visit anytime

Charlie decided to visit after dinner so we invited Keira over and the siblings all had some catch up time. Charlie and Reece have the "childhood buds" status while Keira and Reece are "super siblings". #Parenthood has so much detail, definitely my favourite game pack!

Reece: Hey Samir, Lilith said I should talk to you about football practice

Samir: Why

Reece: I'm on the football team now

Samir: Oh

Reece: I think she was hoping you would teach me some skills

Samir: Lunch, club room

Reece: Huh?

Samir: Practice

Reece: No, I meant to say I didn't realise we had a football club room

Samir: Football and cheer. Technically.

Reece: So it's bi-purpose

Samir: Umm, yeah, sure

Reece: Did you say at lunch?

Samir: Problem?

Reece: I normally use it to eat, you know, lunch

Reece: Do you not eat lunch?

Samir: Big breakfasts

Reece: Will I fit in food

Samir: Probably

Reece: So there's no don't eat for an hour before football rule

Samir: What?

Reece: You know, like don't eat an hour before swimming

Samir: I gotta... go do stuff, see you then

Reece: Bye

If you're thinking why is this conversation so awkward, Reece developed a crush on Samir after literally saying ONE thing to him today. Samir is a loner so is pretty much constantly tense at high school. Reece saw my plan for a quick week and said nah I'm the star

Previous Part ... Next Part

[catspittle]

☠ ― 𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠. (𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟/ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.) via spookmemepls

How "open" are you to generally discussing the fact that you are transgender, or have gone through transitions? Are you casual about it, or are you a little more guarded with discussion?

Emotionlessly, Crane stared. Then blinked, slow and catlike. "The hell are you," came the reedy hiss, "a cop? Unless it's needed within context or I happen to know you well enough to get naked around you, you don't need to know what's in my shirt. Or pants. Other than that, if folks want to know what it means, may as well tell 'em if I have the time. People ain't born knowin' everything."

What pronouns do you currently use? Have you ever considered trying any others?

[Crane uses he/it/佢, though would really prefer to be referred to by he/him only if you're a white English speaker. It's about trust, and trust is not implicitly present with white people when you are a minority in America.]

What 'gendered' terms are you okay with? Which ones aren't you okay with? (Ex. King, Queen, dude, bro, etc...)

His reply is but a shrug. "....I'm supposed to care why? I am a middle-aged man. That's ridiculous. I don't cry about words."

How old were you when you discovered that you were transgender, or wanted to transition? What lead to said discovery?

"Didn't much feel like me anymore. Figured that out in my 20's or so, just about." Crane scratched at his ear with a clawed hand. "Don't think anythin' in particular lead to it. Then again, my memory's not what it once was. Still. Not everything is some grand ass epiphany. Calm down, will you?"

If you changed your name/alias, is there a meaning behind why you chose it?

He laughs, the sound like he's shoving his own lung through a wood chipper. "You ever hear of a singer named Johnny Cash? I'd be damn amazed if you haven't, it ain't exactly like he's particularly obscure. Legally, it's my name; just in English."

Who was the first person you came out to? Did they accept it?

"Old boyfriend. Murray, Charles. Doctor of Polar Ecology; you might know him. Then again, you might not. Little impossible not to be exposed when you've had a child and only one of you's got a dick," Crane snorts, rolling his eyes.

Have you gone through any transition procedures, or do you plan on it? What was it like if you have?

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, then sat in stony silence for quite some time. "Bitch," he began, "the fuck. See, this is the kind of shit we hate being asked. Most of us folks want to be seen as normal, not 'freaks' by the cisgendered community. Now, 'what is normal, Dr. Crane?', you might be askin' me. And the answer to that is 'I have no goddamned idea'." In mild exasperation, he threw his hands up in the air. "I'll admit, I'm not one to mind being seen as a freak by the general populace...but who are you? Why are you here, again?" Sneering, he spat at the interviewer. "What I've had removed, I've lost to cancer. Nothing else to say there."

Have you been through any sort of voice therapy? What was that like?

"And you-" he points at the offending individual, "think I-" then he points at himself, "have money. I'm flattered. Or that I know folks who aren't either cis or dead. Or that Nikolai bitch, who I make a point to avoid wherever possible. White folks are often the whiniest and most entitled excuses for people."

Do you wear binders, or other undergarments regularly?

"Tape, sometimes," Crane grunted apathetically. "That and armored shapewear. Doesn't do too much against a hail of bullets, but it's something." Of course, the man looked like a slightly curved stick to begin with. "At my age, another major surgery would kill me. Aside from the reduction, I'm stuck with what I've got."

Do you actively take testosterone/estrogen? How do you prefer to take it if so?

"Again, you think I have money. I'm charmed. Or at least I would be if I gave half a damn about dancin' like a trained monkey for some stranger. Just didn't have much better to do."

What are some things you didn't quite expect with your transition? Maybe some things that didn't work out like you thought, or things that surprised you about the process?

"What with all the fearmongering?" His head tilted to the side in a rather aggressive motion; a puppet with cut strings. "I expected to be bald. Notice how I'm not. 'M happy about that, actually. Would've been a pain in the ass to deal with."

Do you have a preferred "style" of clothing? Or do you just go with whatever you feel like wearing at the time?

He doesn't hesitate before turning and lifting his shirt, exposing raw muscle and cold titanium. "Dressing yourself ain't exactly easy when half of you is metal," Crane replied snidely, then once again pulled the fabric of his shirt down. "I wear what fits. Anyone who has a problem with that can go to hell."

Do you know anyone else who happens to be transgender or went through a transition process? Or perhaps someone who wants to?

"Other than some 'look at my Brazilian butt lift and boob job' bootleg Barbie callin' herself Copperhead - who had no goddamn snakes around - and Nikolai's sorry ass, not personally." For a moment he turns to examine the points of his nails. "Of course, I'm not opposed to it."

Have your romantic orientation or your sexuality changed since you transitioned?

"No. Also no. Interestingly, it's common," here he grinned like the cat that had caught the canary, nails scraping against the nearby wall. "But I do hope you're capable of connecting the dots. Not all transsexuals were lesbians. Not everyone as a general's attracted to women, and some of us never will be." You should probably run.

What would you tell someone who wants to transition? Maybe you would have some warnings, or general thoughts you'd like to share with them?

"Think about whether you can afford it, because I sure as hell couldn't. If you have to beg complete strangers for total funding, that means you can't. And don't judge your own progress by other people, it'll only end up making everyone miserable." Sage advice from a psychologist, without needing to pay! Imagine that.

Has transitioning made you feel happier, or more comfortable? What was the best part? Are there any details that make you feel particularly "at home" in your body/identity?

"Comfortable, sure." He wouldn't deny that. "Not sure if there has been a best part, apart from finally feeling like I'm not some alien stuck in a flesh suit. A human being, I am not, but the terminology works out just fine." Then Crane thought for a moment. "'S nice to finally be fucked as a man, when people care to acknowledge me as one. It's comforting. Like stepping into the doorway of your own home at the end of a long day."